Jealousy
by SpecialAgentZiva
Summary: Flirting. Admit it, Zee-vah." "So what if I was, Tony? Last time I checked, it is legal for me to flirt." - Tiva later on in the story. Rated T. FINISHED with "Two Days."
1. So What If I Was

**A/N: Really this is just fluff, though I tend to like case fics more than anything. You'll have to deal with this. By the way, I don't own anything. Except Charlee Hunter I guess, but he's a failure methinks. c: This WILL be continued and therefore is not a one-shot. Please review!**

Ziva smiled as the team stepped out of the sedan behind her, squinting their eyes in the morning sun. Another murder, though this one had been called in by the FBI. Without needing word from Gibbs, the agent made her way over to a young and rather nervous-looking agent. She couldn't help but notice his good looks, and how blue his eyes were in the light of the sunrise.

"Hello," she acknowledged him formally and flipped out her badge. "Ziva David, NCIS. What've you got?"

"Charlee Hunter, FBI," the man smiled at her. "You can call me Char. The guys do anyway."

"Okay, Char," she nodded to him, offering a smile for his.

"This is Petty Officer Maria-Lynne West. We called you guys as soon as we got here, though the guys didn't seem too happy about it," he paused, then winked with his next words. "I'm not complaining, though. Wish they'd tell me NCIS agents were to pretty though."

Ziva gave him another smile at his charm. This man obviously had experience charming women like herself. "Are you calling my boss pretty?" she joked.

"I… uh… meant you," he replied, slightly confused.

"I know. I was kidding. Look, I have to go… I'll talk to you later, Char," she flashed him one final smile and handed him her business card. Something was off about this card however; on the side was her home phone, scribbled quickly. She took his business card and turned quickly to find Tony right behind her.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"What was WHAT?" she asked, slightly confused.

"That. Y'know. You were clearly flirting."

"Tony, we just had a simple discussion."

"Flirting. Admit it, Zee-vah."

"So what if I was, Tony? Last time I checked, it is legal for me to flirt."

"You can't be flirting with guys like that!"

"Why?"

"They're not good for you."

"Since when have you cared? Besides, he's a lot like you. Good bye, Tony."

Rolling her eyes, the female agent simply walked away.

***

Later that day, Ziva perched upon a barstool, hand on Charlee's as she laughed with her newfound friend. No matter how jealous Tony became, this man seemed good enough. She'd talk to him at least, anyway.

"So what was with your partner guy? That Tony…" Charlee asked, obviously slightly tipsy.

"He's jealous," Ziva shrugged in return, raising her shot glass to her mouth.

"Why would he be jealous? We're **just**… friends, right?"

"Mmm," she nodded. At least he wasn't jealous of Tony, or outwardly jealous.

"Though, it'd be nice to have more than that," the man whispered in her ear. She found herself turning to smile at him, face just inches from his. Why was she doing this? She barely knew him!

Any logical thought left her mind as he leaned in for a kiss. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling, though it quickly turned to something more. He stood from the barstool and she jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist. With no more coherent words, they stumbled into the men's bathroom.

Tonight was a good, if drunk, night.


	2. Don't You Dare

**A/N: Thanks to reviewers, but hey, I have to have some sort of thing between Ziva/Charlee. Trust me here, k? There will be Tiva some day. ;) Anyway, I don't own NCIS, though I would buy it if I had the money.**

-

Ziva awoke, opening her eyes to bright sunshine streaming in through a window. She blinked once, twice. This place didn't belong to her, that much she knew. She lurched forward and grabbed her gun, pointing it around the room until finally directing it at the sleeping form beside her. Her blood ran cold. Had she seriously slept with Charlee? They'd just gone out for drinks! Tony'd kill her if he found out.

Who says he needs to find out?

This wasn't right anyway. Then again, the FBI agent was rather handsome. She smiled and shifted slightly, grabbing for a robe that hung on the bedpost. The movement woke Charlee, who turned to her with tired eyes and exclaimed, "Ziva! What a night. A bit too much alcohol."

She laughed and nodded. "I have to go to work, Charlee. Gibbs will be expecting me, and Tony will never let it go if I get there after him."

"Is he always late or something?" he asked, staring at her with a half-smile still present on his face. "I don't get to work too early, but not too late, either."

"It is part of my training to be ready early," Ziva nodded to him, before realizing that he wouldn't know her background. "My apologies. I am former Mossad."

"Ohhhh…" he paused, staring at her for a few seconds. "Oh well, that doesn't change anything. You're still beautiful and NCIS and everything. But what does that make you now?"

"I am a probationary field agent before I take my citizenship test," she acknowledged. "However I have worked with NCIS for almost five years now."

"As Mossad?"

"Liaison, yes. I have only recently resigned from Mossad."

"Why did you quit?"

"It is complicated, and a long story."

"I have time. Tell me."

"Charlee, my past is not a good thing. Tony would probably enjoy telling this story more," she mused. "I have been Mossad since the moment they let me in, as were my younger sister and older brother. My father, being director of Mossad - now, anyway - was very pleased. This is not important, however. Things happened and I left NCIS for a short time, leaving Gibbs and McGee and Abby and Tony and such, though I can not truthfully say I missed Vance."

The younger agent grinned at this. "Okay."

"I did not leave on good terms. I have yet to know exactly what happened when I was gone, but I've gotten a bit of insight from Abby and Tony. Abby, McGee, Tony and Gibbs never stopped looking for me after I left. Eventually, they found that the ship I was on had sank… there were no survivors. However, they never stopped looking for me. Eventually they found that I had last been held captive by a man named Salim."

"Ohh. Wow," he stared at her, realizing only now what her scars were from.

"I believe Tony became obsessive with this. They believed I was dead and he sought revenge. At some point - I did not keep track of the months - I was brought into a room and I saw them for the first time in months. Tony, battered and dirty as I. McGee, much the same on the floor. Thus they saved me."

"How?" he pushed.

"Charlee, I do not have time. I need to get to my apartment and then get to work, now. I will see you later, providing the FBI and NCIS work together," she leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before she left, discarding the robe and slipping on her clothes from the night before.

--

"Why are you late, Zeee-vah?" Tony asked, leaning back in his chair smugly as he watched her enter the office. "Was last night's drinks with Charlee a bit more… frisky?"

"How did you know I went for drinks? Nevermind, Tony, mind your own business," she snapped, depositing her bag beside her desk. He just grinned at her in return and she rolled her eyes. Why were men so jealous? So driven for only one thing?

No, that was unfair to say that of Tony. He'd grown up quite a bit. She remembered the times she'd tested him, tried to let him know that he needed a real woman, he needed her. That was before Rivkin. Nothing was the same now anyway. They were still close, yes, but that amount of tension that existed before didn't quite now. She was changed, as was he, by Somalia. They'd never be the same (somehow she didn't mind that too much, though a small bit of her mind yearned for the old Tony back, after Jeanne, before Somalia).

Gibbs came down the stairs from MTAC, looking rather angry. Smug FBI agents stood behind him, though she noticed that Charlee was not one of them. Good. She could do without the whole jealousy thing between her partner and him anyway.

The stopped in front of them as Gibbs begrudgingly broke the news. "Vance has arranged for us to work with the FBI in a joint investigation. He thinks it will do us good."

His last words were dripping with sarcasm. Ziva fought back a smile and nodded formally, though she couldn't help noticing Tony's wide grin that had broken out as soon as Gibbs had spoken his last sentence. She gave in to temptation now and grinned just as widely as Tony, who noticed and winked.

The FBI must think they're crazy.

"Umm… I'm Agent Cherry Fen, this is Agent Zachary Tenant, and Agent Justing Krew. Agent Charlee Hunter will be here shortly. I believe you have already met him," the agent nodded with a knowing smile to Ziva.

She just rolled her eyes in return, catching Tony waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Though if she looked closer, she could have seen the hurt in his eyes, the hurt present for his suspicions were true. Ziva kept her voice straight, trying not to get angry at the FBI agent already, as she spoke, "Yes, I have met Agent Hunter. Thank you, Agent Fen. Gibbs…"

The Isreali walked to her boss and whispered something to him before he nodded and she left for the elevator. She'd wanted to go see Abby to "see what she has." However, when the elevator doors slid open, her heart sank. There stood the last - no, second-last - person she wanted to see right now (at least it wasn't Tony). Charlee smiled at her, holding a cup off coffee out to her.

She gladly accepted it though only pretended to take a sip. "Char, hello. I am on my way to see Abby. Are you accompanying me?"

"Why not? They don't expect me for another twenty minutes anyway. So how're you doing, baby?" he flashed a million dollar smile at her that she recognized as one Tony often used, but not quite the same.

She let 'baby' slide. For now, anyway.

"I'm good, though I could do without Tony's constant jealousy," Ziva admitted, rolling her eyes. "He somehow found out about… last night. Or guessed, anyway, and Agent Fen seemed to have solidified his suspicions."

"I can take care of that?" Charlee offered, gently taking the coffee cup from her hand and putting it down on the floor next to his.

"No thank you," she paused. "Tony has shown he is very… resilient and I doubt you would win such an encounter."

"You want to bet?" he whispered, kissing her gently. She smiled but pushed him back anyway.

"I'm at work, Charlee," she scolded, "and so are you. But trust me, if Tony can survive Riv - err, Mossad, he will not be swayed by anyone else."

"That's a story I've got to heart sometime. Anyway, see you later," the man grinned, and despite his earlier scolding, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her with more flare this time. She melted, but quickly found herself having to pull away as the elevator door slid open again.

"Bye, Charlee. I will see you later."

***

As the elevator doors slid open, once again at the floor of the squadroom, Charlee was met with an angry looking man. Ziva's partner. He inwardly groaned and backed up, politely allowing Tony to stand beside him as he obviously wanted to talk.

"Agent DiNozzo," he acknowledged, voice neutral.

"Agent Hunter," Tony's voice was obviously more aggressive.

"Just skip the small talk, DiNozzo, what do you want?" Charlee rolled his eyes before continuing, not allowing the other man a word. "Oh, I know, you're jealous. Ziva's mine."

"She's not a possession, don't you dare treat her like that!" Tony growled, fist hitting the button to stop the elevator. He turned to look Charlee in the eye.

"Jealous?"

"I have a… right to be like this," he breathed slowly, trying to control his anger. "Ziva and I have been to the end of the world and back together. I went half way across this God damned Earth to rescue her! I suffered months without her! For God's sake I thought she was DEAD!"

Tony's words shook Charlee. He stepped back with wide eyes and just stood, mouth agape, unable of saying anything else. They stood for several moments until the younger agent finally said - quite boldly - "I don't care what you've done. Ziva's… Ziva's not yours."

It took all of the NCIS agent's strength not to hit his companion. He simply slammed his fist into the emergency stop again, starting it up, and rode down to Abby's lab to cool off. As he walked in the door, music assaulted his ears.

"Tony! Hey!" Abby called, and he walked toward her.

"Hey Abbs…" his eyes scanned the lab, though when his eyes found Ziva he wanted to cry. She wasn't what he wanted to see now, not at all. He wheeled around and stormed out, cursing under his breath.

Charlee. Ziva. This was not worth it.


	3. Half An Hour

**A/N: For those of you who were upset over the Charlee/Ziva thing, I wrote 'Run In The Rain' just for you. xD Oh, I should have cleared this up as well: Charlee is YOUNGER than Tony, so if I refer to him as 'the younger agent,' well… it's Char. I don't own anything. Enjoy.**

Ziva sat in the corner of Abby's lab, trying to gather her thoughts while he friend sympathetically watched, only wanting to know what was wrong. She just hoped that Charlee and Tony would not have a chance to go anywhere private - she knew they'd fight, and that was the last thing she wanted. But this time, if anything happened to Charlee, she'd back up Tony, no matter what. That one thought brought a smile from her face, that quickly vanished when she heard Abby's voice, barely audible over the music.

"Tony! Hey!"

Her eyes widened and she stood up to watch the scene. Tony must have seen her, for after he muttered a quick hello that she didn't see, he turned sharply and left. Puzzled, she just stared after him. This was wrong, this was all wrong. Why were men always jealous?

"Geez, what's wrong with him?" Abby asked, turning to Ziva for answers.

Ziva shrugged and tried to come up with the best answer possible. After a few short moments she finally mumbled, "It's complicated, Abby, but I'll… fix this." She forced a smile for her friend and wheeled out of the lab, following Tony's steps. If she was lucky, she'd manage to meet him in the elevator.

Ziva David was not lucky.

Oh well. With a sigh, she tried to push the issue to the back of her mind as she waited for the elevator. Tony was obviously jealous again. It was possible that he'd already 'talked' to Charlee. Her heart sank at that idea. Perhaps it would be best if she went to check on her newfound male friend. Deciding the elevator was taking too long - probably stopped by Gibbs, conferencing, or Tony, trying to calm down - she begrudgingly took the stairs.

Half-way up she noticed two FBI agents coming down the stairs, chattering nonstop. One sounded like a young female, and the other was obviously Charlee. She rolled her eyes and just continued up until they met in the middle. Ziva wanted to stop, but his "Hey, baby!" caused her to turn.

Some thing always stopped her from getting angry at his "baby"s. She forced a smile that quickly melted into half genuine when he returned it. "Charlee," she acknowledged, "Agent Fen."

The female FBI agent nodded politely to her. "So you're THE Ziva. I've heard a lot about you from Charlee…"

"Oh, really?" Ziva asked, conversationally, curiosity manifesting itself at the back of her mind. "What has he said?"

"Just the usual things," Cherry Fen winked. "Look, we have to get these files down to Ducky… the elevator seems to have issues. We'll see you around. Charlee?"

While his companion kept going, Charlee leaned over the banister separating 'up' and 'down' to kiss Ziva. She allowed herself to enjoy it, trying to push the image of Tony's anger out of her mind. This wasn't right, why did she enjoy it so much?

"See you later," he grinned again, punctuating the sentence with one final kiss. "Bye, Ziva!"

Ziva nodded to him and waved, standing to watch him catch up to Agent Fen. Her mind wandered, not really on the scene in front of her. If she'd paid attention, she would have seen Charlee's obviously sexually inclined behaviour towards the woman beside him. It was obvious from a distance, though she was too busy thinking to notice.

"Bye, Charlee," she finally whispered, before realizing she was standing in the middle of the stairs, staring.

***

Tony sat in the elevator, hands on his face. The metal was cold beneath and behind him, yet he didn't move. He'd been in there long enough to break Gibbs's record time locked up in the elevator. It was on emergency stop, as always, though he knew nobody would respond to a sudden shut down of this elevator. It was normal. Even probationary agents got used to it after a while, but not without several muttered curses and something that sounded suspiciously like "Gibbs."

Thoughts ran through his head a mile a minute, his breath coming in deep and slow as he tried to calm down once again. Charlee had been one thing. He'd expected to get angry, frustrated, but he'd expected to break the young agent as well and scare him away from Ziva. That damned FBI agent had the courage to stand up to him though.

Basically calling Ziva a possession was not a good thing. He had tried so hard not to hit the other man. Thank God he didn't. Ziva would probably never talk to him again, not after what he did to her last boyfriend. Rivkin.

Would she ever learn anyway? He went across the world to save her. He could have died. That part wouldn't have fazed him too much. It had been a suicide mission anyway, he hadn't really expected to come back home, especially with Ziva alive. No, the worst part was when he found out she was dead.

Still, he wanted nothing but to part Charlee and Ziva. They would just be a train wreck anyway. Charlee hadn't made a good impression by immediately flirting with the female NCIS agent, not to mention the other things he said. Tony shuddered, biting his lip. He'd have to move from the floor soon. Just not yet.

***

"Why won't this open?" Ziva sighed, slamming her open palms against the elevator again. "Tony, come on, open this…"

He wouldn't hear her, she knew, but she spoke anyway. Her partner had been in there for half an hour. The entire office was grumbling as they marched slowly down the stairs (which she made a point of avoiding to avoid Charlee). Her only choice to open it now was to bribe Abby into helping her. If there was a switch, she couldn't find it. Unless…?

Her fingers skimmed a small panel. On the bottom of it were the tiny, jumbled words "elevator." With a sharp intake of breath, she pried it open to find three separate buttons. One red, labeled 'emergency stop,' one blue, labeled simply 'emergency - doors,' with the last green one stating 'start.' She pushed the green button rather forcefully and heard an intake of breath behind her as the entire office waited to see if she'd finally get Tony out of the elevator.

They all released the breath together as the elevator began to whirr. After about a minute, the doors slid open. Looking up at her was Tony. She flashed him a smile even though he obviously didn't want to see anybody and stepped in. Ziva practically punched the lowest floor button, though when their silver container started to move, she hit 'emergency brake.'

The office upstairs was probably cursing him (and her) again.

"Tony," she gave him a smile and sat down on the floor beside him. He'd probably have moved if she hadn't just cornered him.

"Ziva," he replied, voice neutral and eyes on anything but her.

"You need to leave the elevator," she pointed out with a yawn. "Come on, Tony, where it's a slow day or not, the whole office's cursing you."

"Is that all you came here for?" he questioned, face turning into a glare.

"I… yes," she paused, "but I also want to talk to you. Tony, you do not need to be jealous. It is irrational. Charlee and I are…"

"I get it, Ziva," he growled. "Just drop it, okay? I get it. I have no right to be jealous. I have no right to think of you as really anything but a co-worker. I have no damn right to think anything about you, because you don't give a damn. Not to mention, you're Charlee's."

"I am… what? Tony, please," she cried out as he stood and punched the emergency brake hard again, feeling the elevator jump to life. She grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her. "Tony, I…"

The elevator doors slid open now. He wrenched himself out of her grip and stalked down the hallway, far away from her. "Tony," she called after him, once, twice, with no avail.

***

Later that evening, Ziva sat in her apartment, staring at the T.V. without really paying attention. Images flashed by. Reports of the dead marine, with footage showing the NCIS agents (including herself) on the scene the first time. She did notice when the camera crew zoomed in on herself and Charlee, followed by herself and Tony. Since when had there been a camera crew anyway? A resident must have called the news.

A knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. She opened it without bothering to check who it was, already sure of the identity of the newcomer. Charlee stood with a smile on his face, a rose in his hand. "Hey, Ziva!" he greeted her, leaning in for a kiss that she reluctantly allowed him.

She backed up into her apartment, and he followed her, placing the rose on a small table by the door. He shut it graciously and stared at her with a hungry gleam in his eye. "Ready for a repeat of last night?" he asked, winking.

"I…" she trailed off. Maybe keeping her mind of Tony was a good thing, but she didn't want to do this, not tonight. "No, I am tired, Charlee. Goodnight. Feel free to stay if you would like."

"Can I join you?" he asked hopefully, but she just smiled politely in reply. Taking this as a 'yes' he took off his coat before following her into the dark bedroom. She was already laying, pretending to be asleep, by the time he got there.

"Good night, Ziva," Charlee nodded to her. He didn't sleep, however, just took in the sight of the bedroom. If anything, he was angry at her for denying him, but she was just a woman anyway. He could replace her fast if she ever did that again. Cherry Fen seemed interested enough in him.

His eyes scanned the pictures across the bedroom. On the end table beside the bed - his side - he could see two different pictures, both framed and shining in the gloom. The man reached to turn on the light, hoping it was on low enough to allow Ziva sleep (at least for now). Each of the two pictures was entirely different, obviously taken at different times. He took the first one, studying it. It was labeled 'the team,' although there was a woman with firey red hair he'd never seen before - oh, he'd love to meet HER. Ziva was standing in front of Tony, hands on his arms. Even though she was smiling, she seemed to be trying to get his hands off her hips, though not trying hard. The other was just her and Tony.

This picture was different by far. She was far skinnier, with scars and wounds standing out, and she wasn't smiling all that much. He looked much the same, beat-up and tired, but he was smiling. His arms were around her waist - this time she didn't seem to care - and his face was pressed into her hair. This photo was labeled "Tony & Me, after Somalia."

Why would she keep such a memento, he wondered, staring at it. Probably because it featured DiNozzo, and they were both alive. Charlee's eyes narrowed as he realized that in both pictures, she was far too close to her partner. Maybe he'd have to have a talk with DiNozzo. Tomorrow, anyway.

He put it back and turned off the light, drifting into sleep, at least for now.

***

Sometime later he woke up to Ziva's gun in his face. "Woah, Ziva!" he cried, pulling the covers up for what little protection they'd offer. "Calm down!"

She blinked sleep from her eyes and dropped the gun. "Sorry," she muttered, too tired to really care when he leaned over for a kiss which she accepted without thought. "Mmm."

"It's 4:30, babe," he whispered. "You gotta go to work soon enough. Same here. But I know how to wake you up…"

"Charlee, not…" she started, but found him ignoring her. Fine, she thought, and allowed herself to enjoy his kisses.

**A/N: Please don't hurt me. :c If you noticed, there are a few hints as to what'll happen later so you people can enjoy Tiva soon enough. And so I end this with 'please don't hurt me.'**


	4. Nearly Suffocating

**A/N: Hey guys. This is the 4th chapter of Jealousy. I hope you guys enjoy! C: By the way, there is a poll on my profile concerning this if you want to tell me how this all should be resolved. I have an idea but I want your guys's opinions! Special thanks to NCIStivaAddict for betareading this, and thanks to my reviewers! I don't own anything. With that said, enjoy!**

She was running late, and he was already gone. Ziva grabbed the nearest thing she could think of, slipping not very flattering cargo pants on and a bright red shirt. The velvet of the shirt made her smile, but it dropped as soon as she realized that Tony'd remarked once about how much he liked her in red. She sighed, reminding herself that this was no time to be thinking of him. Or Charlee, for that matter.

Her skilled hands flew to her hair and simply tied the loose strands into a tight ponytail, revealing most of her neck. Simple black shoes found their way onto her feet as she raced out the door, only pausing to lock her apartment behind her. Thus began the race down the hallway and stairs, the mad dash to the door, and her sprint to her car.

Keys, where were they? Ziva's hands searched her pants pocket, finding nothing but the apartment keys. Why hadn't she put them on the same chain yet?

"Damnit," she growled, hitting the handle with her open palm. The car refused to budge even as it was assaulted by her palm. It only responded when she finally grabbed at the handle, trying to pry it open even without the needed keys to enter. A blaring car alarm sounded and she rolled her eyes. This was just not her day.

The NCIS agent tore back across the parking lot, cursing the still blaring car alarm. She pushed the door open and raced up the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. Her hands fumbled with the keys as she reached the door, jamming them in the lock. The door gave a 'click' and she flew in, grabbing the car keys she'd mistakenly left on the cough last night. The clock on the wall read "5:50" in bold, bright letters.

Ten minutes to get to work. Tony'd laugh at her and say something rather suggestive about Charlee and her (although, with the way he'd been acting lately, this was unlikely) and Gibbs would most certainly grant her a headslap. Barely stopping to lock the door, she pushed herself to go faster than before.

Down the stairs. Out the door. Across the parking lot. Into the car. Off to work.

The road flashed by fast and she urged herself to put the pedal to the metal. God knows what Tony would say to her when she got in…

***

The morning was quiet. Tony sat upon his chair, spinning back and forth and deep in thought. The rest of the squadroom was empty, save for McGee, who looked ready to fall asleep anyway. Time seemed to tick by slowly, so slowly that he wanted to hit his head on the desk. He was waiting, but not for Ziva, not for Charlee, not for Gibbs. What he was waiting for was a mystery even for him.

The elevator's ding brought him out of his thoughts. His green eyes went to the clock on his wrist. 6:20 burned bright in front of him. Ziva wasn't in yet. Puzzled, he moved for a view of the elevator. There she was now. He faked a smile and waved in greeting.

Ziva stopped to see Tony's reaction, though it confused her when he simply smiled and waved. Why had he not spoken, not guessed about her night, not even hurled an insult aimed at herself or Charlee? Somehow his silence disturbed her. She'd known him long enough to be sure on his inability to keep quiet.

As he turned away, the senior field agent rolled his eyes and fought to keep himself from cursing under his breath. He fixed his face in a genuine looking smile and pushed past his female coworker, not stopping to look back as he trekked down the hallway. The men's room would give him partial privacy. The door opened easily with a twist of the knob, revealing the head to be completely empty as he'd hoped. His feet led him to the sink, where he stared at his reflection for a few moments before splashing water on his face.

This was a hell of a week. The only thing that could really top this would be to find out that Ziva was pregnant with Charlee's child or something. He shuddered at the thought of baby David-Hunter.

"Shit, I can't… I hope this is over soon," he said to everyone and no one at the same time. His voice spiked with emotion that normally he would contain, but there seemed to be no one in with him. At least for now. As if on queue, the door opened to reveal a rather tired McGee.

"Tony," he greeted, "Ziva's looking for you. She's concerned, you're not talking to her."

"I have a reason for not talking to her," Tony growled in reply, wishing that the men's room was empty again. Then again, talking to his fellow agent might get his mind off of _her._

"Charlee?" McGee questioned knowingly, a small smirk on his face.

"Of course," came the reply. "He pisses me off. He's not good for her."

"You're… Tony, you normally don't care _this _much. I mean, Rivkin was a mess, but Charlee's okay."

"He's a damn player and I don't want to see him with Ziva. He treats her like property. _Property, _McGee! She doesn't belong to any damn person."

"Okay. Calm… calm down. At least try to be professional for now or Gibbs'll kill you."

"If Ziva doesn't first," Tony said flatly, his eyes still on the mirror. So much for taking his mind off Ziva. This was helping him as much as talking to her would, and right now, he'd rather quit than actually have to talk to his partner, at least unprofessionally.

"Come on, Tony, you know she wouldn't actually hurt you..." McGee trailed off. _Would she?_

"She put a gun to my chest last time I messed with her boyfriend. I wouldn't put anything past her." Tony ground his hand into his face, willing himself to think that his partner wouldn't break his trust completely. Not again.

McGee flashed him an encouraging smile and left, the only thought in his mind being, _God, is he falling in love with Ziva?_

***

Ziva turned her chair to stare down the hallway she'd watched Tony go down but ten minutes ago, followed by McGee about seven minutes after. This was driving her crazy. The obvious rivalry between her beloved partner and her FBI lover was going to be the death of her. As the second 'ding' of the morning from the elevator sounded, she stood up, allowing the chair to hit her cabinets. Everybody else was in. This had to be the FBI and Charlee.

She took herself down the hallway towards the women's room, but stopped to watch the FBI agents leave the elevator. As they rounded the corner, the Israeli snuck over to the metal container they'd just left and waited for it to open. It took only moments and she was gone; as the doors slid closed she could see Charlee standing, puzzled, at her desk.

The ride was smooth and silent, and she was thankful for that. After the constant complaints from each man about the other, she needed a break more than anything. Abby might be just what she needed, now that Tony was in the men's room with McGee. This would ensure an almost completely uninterrupted, meaningless conversation.

"Abby!" she called before even reaching the door. "Hey, Abby!"

The forensic scientist turned around, her black pigtails flying in the air behind her. "Ziva! What's up?"

"Nothing, I just need to get away for a while," Ziva admitted with rueful smile. "I am nearly suffocating between Charlee and Tony."

"Aw, Ziva," Abby cried, pulling her into a bear hug. "You know Tony's just being Tony… I don't really like Charlee either though. He doesn't seem all that good."

"Abby, not you too!" Ziva sighed.

"No, I won't start on you, don't worry," Abby offered her an encouraging smile. "But seriously, lay off Tony. He's just being protective. He's just… waiting."

"For what?"

"You, Ziva…

_You_."

**A/N: I added some more Abby and a bit of McGee for you people. ;) Tony/Ziva based fic or not, we can't leave out our favorite... ummm... forensics/investigation pairing! That doesn't sound right, but I hope you get the idea. **


	5. Ignoring Ziva

**A/N: I should have run this through my amazing betareader, but I have to admit I didn't because I'm so excited to get to the end of this since it will be so GOOD. How's it gonna end? I've been dropping hints throughout the story, especially with Charlee. And I want you to look at the name of this chapter. "Ignoring Ziva." This is IMPORTANT to the story. Hinthint! C: Anyway, thanks to my reviewers, loyal readers, amazing betareader, and Faber Drive for providing background music (I don't own them haha). I don't own anything.**

A clear, silver moon shone bright above DC, the dark sky surrounding it untouched by wispy clouds. This bright moonlight filtered through the barely closed curtain of an apartment. Ziva's apartment. Thoughts traveled through her mind at a mile a minute; some about the sleeping man beside her who was mumbling insistently in his sleep, and some concerning Abby's words. Maybe she was reading too much into this.

It would help if Tony would open his mouth and say something to her. _Anything. _He'd been unusually brief, blunt and abrupt at work with her. Never once did he stray off topic or attempt to engage her in any of his juvenile activities. As far as she knew, he hadn't even done _anything_ juvenile today.

All business. No pranks.

Even when McGee had returned, he'd only shook his head at her in response. Their talk hadn't done anything to get Tony to talk to her.

_Fine. If he wants to be jealous, let him. Charlee's…_

At first, she could have given her partner reasons that Charlee was a good man, but those ideas were slowly waning and fading away. He'd shown himself to be aggressive, a quality she hadn't expected in an FBI agent. _Even Mossad had rogue agents._

_Ari._

That name. Sometimes she'd thought about him, laying awake in a bed much the same as now. Occasionally she'd have a man beside her, from a late night at a bar where she'd only gone to get rid of thoughts, but he would be gone by morning. In most cases, she never say him again. Now, however, it was clear that Charlee intended to stay for a while. At least until he was tired of her.

Abby's words came to mind now again. _He's just… waiting. For what? You, Ziva. You. _

If her words were truth, her partner had been waiting so long for her. Five years they'd worked together, and they'd been through everything. Occasionally she'd feel guilty, like now, that she was with another man, but Ziva quickly pushed the thoughts from her mind.

_Come on. This is your partner you're talkin' about. His idea of a long term commitment is STILL a three day weekend…_

Her eyes started to water despite fighting tears at the thought of the occasion. That had been when she'd officially 'met' Roy and, as Tony had put it, fallen in love with the 'Dead Man Walking.'

"Ziva?" Charlee's voice rang clear through the still of the night. She bit her lip and forced a smile, wiping her tears and wishing he'd simply be asleep. "Hey, babe, are you okay?"

"Yes, Ch… Char," Ziva gave him a fake smile and turned back away from him. Most men could take a hint, but obviously he wasn't that intelligent. His arms pulled her far too close for comfort right now (thoughts of Tony and Roy ran through her head. _Tony. Roy. Roy. Tony. Roy._).

"Care to share with the class?" he purred into her ear.

"Not right now… please," she almost begged him. Sleep would do her good now. She'd escape reality and the past. Why was it that men made her heart hurt so? Tony DiNozzo, Roy Sanders, Michael Rivkin, Charlee Hunter – they were all on the same list.

"Fine, but you need some sleep, unless you're up for some… _extracurricular activities_," he whispered suggestively, flipping her over to face him. Without waiting for an answer, the man allowed himself to indulge in her body.

Ziva sighed and went along with it, the memory of her much loved orange beanie burning in her mind now. Not just the hat itself, but its owner. Roy would have been perfect for her, and he'd never ask for this…

***

Tony's mind raced as he sat in bed, covers falling off of his bare knees. His face had long since fallen into his hands and he'd left himself in that position. Had he been looking, he would have seen the clock proudly burning the time, 3:30 am, into the night. Memories, thoughts, pictures and conversations he'd never have flashed through his mind.

Under cover(s) with Ziva – although he didn't often revisit this memory; as much as he'd loved that slim body, that was no longer the Ziva he knew, nor had that been real. How she'd tried to comfort him after Jeanne, and how he'd waved her away each time, even when he'd needed her comfort more than anything. Seeing her for the first time in a few months, and saving her. She'd been his princess and he'd been her knight in shining armor… if only she'd seen it that way.

Despite himself, he smiled, but it was lost at his next thought. _That was then, this is now. Most of that was before Rivkin, before she 'died.' Now I don't know if I know her. After Rivkin, she's gotta have enough sense not to go around with a man like Charlee. I hate that man. But I can't hate him, because if I hurt him – physically, anyway – I don't think Ziva'll take my side._

"I've got to get to bed," he mumbled, moving for the first time in at least an hour. Tired green eyes took in the dark scene of his bedroom. Quiet, would-be pitch black if not for a clear moon, and Zivaless. Some things never change.

"Gotta sleep," Tony whispered to himself again, turning onto his side and forcing his eyes closed. Maybe he'd get in an hour or two of sleep before work. And then it'd be another day of pretending he barely knew Ziva, pretending he was all business. Preferably, they wouldn't talk at all.

And though he never got to sleep, sometime between work and home, he managed to clear his mind of her for a few peaceful moments.

***

Ziva walked, unsure, into the squad room. It was still except for the slow, but constant, tap of Tony's fingers as they dodged across his keyboard. She called a quick "hello," but his head didn't even move an inch. There was no way she could take another day of this. Quiet, or ignoring her; he was trying to get to her. Well, she would show him that he couldn't annoy her with his childish tactics.

_But he already has. This is killing me._

At least she didn't have to endure his silence much longer. Well, she would, until he decided to forgive her or was forced to speak, but Charlee was surely right behind her in his car. Seeing him 24/7, inside and outside of the workplace, was getting overbearing. Somehow she wished he would just let her keep their relationship out of the workplace.

_Let him kiss me today. It'll get to Tony, and that can be my revenge. He'll have to talk to me soon enough._

The elevator _pinged_ as if on queue, revealing the man she's been waiting for. _See how DiNozzo likes this._ As Charlee approached her, she rushed to meet him and pulled him into a very fake (but obviously true enough for him) kiss.

Tony's face turned many colors before settling on purple. Was she doing this on purpose?

And thus started day 2 of ignoring Ziva.

**A/N: I think I'll put the conclusion in motion in a chapter or two, but it'll be great. I think you'll love it. Just stick with me, whether you hate Charlee or not!**


	6. From His Hand

**A/N: I was actually really excited about this chapter because it's amazing. C; I'm starting towards the conclusion now and you will see later on in the story. Anyway, thanks to my readers, reviewers and beta fish. I don't own NCIS. Ohh, and the songs Sleepless Nights and Time Bomb by Faber Drive remind me of this story. You should listen, they're great songs, but I own neither them nor the band.**

"Ziva, stop playing grab ass with Hunter," a voice suddenly growled. The agent in question turned around fast, letting go of Charlee, her brown eyes seeming to glitter innocently. She only smirked and nodded to her boss. The clear warning in Gibbs's voice must have hit Charlee, for he went rigid, like a deer caught in headlights, before nodding with his best (but faltering) smile.

"Sorry, Agent Gibbs," he offered to the man Ziva seemed to answer best to (_Special Agent Gibbs _ran through all of their heads except Charlee's, automatically correcting, though not out loud). "Ziva's getting a bit… wow. Anybody'd want her."

"Whether anybody wants her or not," Gibbs growled, his tone still threatening, "my agents are required to _not_ play grab ass in the squad room. DiNozzo, what've you got?"

He'd expected the senior field agent to get up, list off a tidbit of information and then hand off the speech to someone else. He hadn't expected for Tony to be prepared, to fake a smile better than Hunter had, and lay out enough information about the suspect of the latest case to put Abby to shame. What shocked him most was the obvious tired appearance, and the way those eyes never once shifted to Ziva.

"Sergeant Frank Moore, Gibbs," Tony began, pointing to the plasma screen where all recorded details of Moore were displayed, "deployed twice to Iraq. He's 29, and scheduled to deploy again in a few days. If he's our guy, we've got to get him before then. He's married to Lieutenant Jessica Moore, and they have one kid, 5-year-old Amber Moore."

The man's partner began to speak, but he continued as though she was nonexistent, only pausing briefly to draw in a breath. "Moore has a Navy issued combat knife that matches the description Ducky just sent up with Abby. Rubber handle with good grips, flat back, but the edge is jagged. Apparently it's pretty lethal against rabbits and deer."

He expected a movie quote. He expected some sort of jab at Ziva, some sort of jab at himself, or McGee, or even that (damned) FBI agent Hunter. Nothing. Gibbs simply stared, his gray-blue eyes revealing nothing, for a few moments. The squad room was awkwardly hushed, as though no one should speak and so no one did; not even the Probie dared breathe audibly. Finally, he broke the silence with a, "Good job Dinozzo. It looks like your co-workers were too busy playing grab ass to do any work."

Ziva's face flushed bright red, Charlee just winked at her playfully, and he could have sworn he'd caught a flash of hurt in Tony's eyes. But he had praised the senior field agent!

_I see what this is about,_ Gibbs decided, staring once again, _and they'd better fix it before I make them fix it. I'd better get Charlee out of here soon though. I can't have my agents distracted by men like him._

"Agent Hunter," his sharp voice pierced the momentary silence, "you are to return to the FBI today. We will be finished this case soon."

"But jurisdiction-" Charlee stared, only to be interrupted.

"Jurisdiction says it's our crime. Marine, hence NCIS. Inform Agent Fen of this as well," Gibbs growled.

"But… I… what does the Director have to say?" came the bold reply.

"Director Vance has nothing to say. I'm sure he'll agree. Good bye, Hunter. You will be off this case as of midnight tonight."

"I…"

***

Time seemed to go by faster than ever; at least for Charlee Hunter, who paced in front of **his **girl's desk, puzzling over ways to stay working with NCIS for at least a day longer. Ziva was not the problem – he'd see her outside of work, whether she liked it or not. _Mmm, what I'd do for some Ziva right now._

As though she could read his mind, the woman stood up and walked towards him. She extended her hand to his chest and therefore stopped him. Had he been paying attention, he would have realized that they were exactly aligned with his rival across the room, a man whose face turned many colors once again. Charlee grinned smugly at Ziva and captured her lips again, letting his hands roam though forcing himself to stay close enough to within the regulations. _There's always the men's room._

_No, Agent Gibbs will kill me, if DiNozzo doesn't try first._

He found his hands being moved as she removed them from underneath her shirt. Anger flared but he pushed it down. They'd finish what he wanted to do after work. _Ohhh, that body…_

"We are at work," she whispered in his ear, and he convinced himself that she would be willing to make his fantasies reality later. However, there seemed to be some reluctance in her voice. _Was that guilt?_

He grinned at her and kissed her cheek before stepping away. This time, he really did bother to notice the look on Tony's face. Anger, hurt, guilt, all at the same time. "Hey, DiNozzo, got anything yet?"

Voice mocking or not, he got no response. This was getting frustrating already. "I'm talking to you DiNozzo. Answer me."

No response still. Charlee gritted his teeth and stared harder at the man, willing him to look up and scream at him, or respond in some way. "Ahh, I take that as a no. Do me a favor though. Stop undressing **my **girl with those eyes."

Breath caught in Ziva's throat. She'd forced herself to ignore Charlee before he even started on Tony, but now… Seconds ticked past. Moments flashed by. After half a minute, she released her breath.

At least Tony had the sense to keep his mouth quiet.

But maybe he was simply intent on ignoring her, and therefore ignoring _him._

***

Night had long set in over Washington, DC as very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo sat on his rather comfortable couch, watching images and hearing sounds but not really paying attention. The words made no sense right now, the story was useless. Ignoring Ziva was going to be the death of him, but so was Charlee.

That man made him grit his teeth in disgust and want to hit something, hard. In fact, he had hit something, about half an hour ago, and his knuckles ached from colliding with a wooden couch frame underneath a pillow. Thankfully he hadn't broken those knuckles (or hoped they weren't broken, at least). Explaining a set of broken knuckles to Gibbs would be hard enough without the incident having anything to do with _Ziva. _Or _Charlee._ Or a couch frame, for that matter.

His phone rang insistently beside him, blaring a song from a movie he'd know if he was paying attention. Instinctively, Tony's hands took the phone, but he simply let it ring as he read the caller ID. _Ziva._

As far as he knew, she didn't want anything to do with him. So why call now, at this time of night?

Later, he'd be guilt ridden and wish that he'd picked up the phone the first time.

The phone began to come to a close with its song, and he reached out to take the call but forced himself to pull his hand back. He wasn't done playing the Ignore Ziva game. He'd play it up for a while and then she'd have to – _have to_ – talk to him.

That was the plan, at least. It was foolish and childish, yes, to ignore her and force her to speak to him, to listen to him, but what choice did he have? In his state of mind – angry, confused, hurt and such – he could barely remember what movie he was watching. The Tony DiNozzo before Somalia probably could have, though, he thought with a bitter smile.

Tony DiNozzo went through a lot in Somalia. Although his predicament had not been as bad as Ziva's, he'd still gone on a suicide mission for revenge and he'd still been locked in a dark room with only an 'unconscious' McGee and rather pissed off Salim for company.

The phone began to ring again. He stared at it for a few seconds, panicking. Did he answer it? It must be urgent for her to call again in the middle of the night. _Or maybe she's at a bar and is accidentally butt dialing me._

Despite these worries, he grabbed the phone and clicked 'answer' fast. Something told him not to speak first, and he complied.

The sound that came through the phone caused his heart to stop, if only for a few seconds. That phone fell from his hand, clattering to the floor.

And without a second thought, he bolted out the door.

**A/N: Now you're thinking, "Ohmagod, what did he hear?" or "What's wrong with Ziva?" or "Did you lock the door before you left, Tony?" Well, I hope you're at least thinking one of the first two and not the last. C; And so we begin to read a more fast paced story. Next chapter'll be up as soon as I write it.**


	7. His Smile

**A/N: This was originally 2 chapters, but I didn't want to go too fast, so it's now been split into two. This chapter was kind of upsetting to write, but you will be okay with the ending of the next chapter, and the story itself (which will continue for two or three more chapters). Enjoy, I don't own anything.**

By the time Ziva arrived home, she'd had enough of NCIS to last a life time. Between Charlee complaining about his FBI team being taken off the case (by Gibbs personally) and Tony's refusal to talk to her, she'd simply wanted to go home and shut out the world. This, however, seemed to be an impossible thought.

Though it was pouring rain when she'd left NCIS, she heard no rain now. As she put her bag down carefully on a small end table by the door, and reluctantly allowed Charlee to follow her in, Ziva allowed herself to review the day.

_Get to work. Kiss Char to make Tony jealous. Have Gibbs get pissed, etc. Paperwork. Listen to Charlee insult Tony with no reply, but pay only a little attention. Paperwork. Lunch. Research, paperwork. Listen to Charlee complain about Gibbs, about Tony, about Ducky and McGee and Abby and Palmer. Research._

_Listen to the rain pound on the window outside, and finally get up to leave, realizing I have no jacket. Stare at Tony for a second and see him reach for his jacket and then seemingly change his mind. Ride down the elevator with Charlee (still complaining) behind me. Have him not offer me his jacket, which is okay, and have him follow me home in his car. Be forced to let him in. And now I'm here._

Her tired eyes drooped as she made her way over to the couch, listening for a 'click' to signify that Charlee was officially in her house and had closed the door. It sounded only a few seconds after she'd begun to walk away. His bag fell to the floor with a _thunk_ somewhere behind her, and the sound of his footsteps alerted her to his following her exact trail towards the living room.

_Later, she'd wish she hadn't let him in at all._

Thankfully, it wasn't far to walk.

Ziva's feet felt like iron weights. She pushed herself to believe that this was the strain of work, but if it hadn't been for Charlee's insults and Tony's silent treatment, she probably wouldn't be tired and feeling like one of the dead bodies on Ducky's autopsy table. She was so lucky she'd never been a body on anyone's table, that was for sure; alive and well as she was now.

Mossad training, Mossad itself, NCIS and Somalia. All posed new challenges that had nearly gotten her killed each time. _She forced herself to think about something other than the last three options. All were somehow connected with Tony._

Still. She'd pushed herself the last few months to reach a physical level she'd never made before, but her aching bones always reminded her that nutrition was just as good as training, that her body had limits. It was hard to admit it, but even now, she was not as strong nor as fast as Ziva David before Somalia.

The Israeli woman allowed herself to fall onto the couch into a relatively comfortable position, allowing some room for her 'boyfriend' (lover was far too strong, but even boyfriend felt like too much right now. Fling?) to sit beside her feet. Right now, she was unsure as to what there was for her to do. Sitting was simply too much.

Charlee smiled at her, that smile that made her ache inside and think of Tony, and she instantly wished he'd stop. "Hey, baby, mind moving over a bit for Daddy?"

_Daddy. Baby. _She shuddered and drew in a deep breath to control her frustration with such words used in association with her, with him. "Alright."

Her feet drew back only a little bit and he sat down, taking what he could. "Are we going to finish what we started earlier?"

"Earlier?" Ziva questioned, staring at him with confused eyes. Then it hit her. He wanted to continue the fake kiss she'd started earlier. The one where his hands automatically went up her shirt.

"Yeah," he purred, leaning dangerously close to her face.

"I… Charlee, I believe I am far too tired," she tried but his smile just broadened.

"Oh, come on," came the plea. "Some physical activity is good for you."

"I said **no**," she growled in reply, swatting his wandering hand away. "I have had a long day, Charlee."

"Excuse me?" he asked, and she instantly saw a change in him. Fear flickered in her eyes despite herself as she watched him stand and glare at her. "Excuse me? Did you just say **no**? Well, for your information, **no one** says no to me."

"I believe I just did."

_Later, she'd wish she just kept her mouth shut._

He was angry. She could tell that, and now more than ever she wished that she'd pushed herself harder if possible to get her strength all the way back. His arms shot out suddenly and gripped hers hard against her chest. Fear flickered in her eyes again. He seemed to enjoy it, smiling even broader if possible.

_Later, she'd wish she'd seen this coming earlier._

She fought him, but could not move from under his weight. He flipped her onto her stomach and held her hands against her back with one hand, reaching for a rope with the other. "Ziva, Ziva, Ziva," he purred as he tied a tight knot too far up her wrist.

"Damn you," she growled, attempting to kick out but finding no escape. He flipped her back over and wrenched her off the couch, pushing her into a wall. Behind her back, Ziva's hands tried desperately to reach the phone in her pocket.

He winked at her and tied her feet together, as to keep her from trying to kick again.

"I thought you were FBI," she spat at him.

He grinned again. "No agency's perfect. Nobody can resist me anyway. It's not like I get denied much anyway. The women who do, though, get pretty much the same treatment as you."

Her hands slipped into her pocket finally and she flipped the phone open, glad it was on silent. The time she'd spent with Gibbs had allowed her to memorize the position of the numbers without looking, in case of emergency. And as he begins to force her shirt over her head, she hits two buttons.

Number one. And call. Tony's speed dial.

She prays that he'll pick up soon, but after a while the phone vibrates in her pocket to let her know that he hasn't. She's afraid, in spite of herself, of the man in front of her who's still trying to figure out the shirt. Ziva's hands dig out the phone again and she dials Tony. She's forced to put the phone in her pocket so that Charlee doesn't see it, but she lets the part that takes in sound (she'd never learned the name for it) peek out over the top of the pocket so he could hear everything.

"Come on, Ziva," Charlee murmured, "You know you can't resist me."

Her shirt was off now, and it only took moments for his to be discarded too.

There's still fear in her eyes.


	8. Later, He'd Wish

**A/N: Oh wow. After last chapter, I hope you're ready for this. : ( I can say I had some trouble writing this, even though the ending of the story itself will be amazing. Enjoy, I don't own anything.**

**This is really short, I know, but I didn't want to put the last chapter and this together.**

Tony's car weaved in and out of traffic, not caring for speed limit nor civilians. Why did Ziva have to live twenty minutes away? What he'd heard played through his mind as he drove, forcing the car to go to speeds it had never reached before.

_Later, he'd wish he'd gone faster._

The laughter that he knew so well, Ziva whimpering in obvious fear – something he'd never heard before – and those words. "You know you can't resist me."

This wasn't right. She wouldn't call him if she wasn't afraid or in danger.

_Later, he'd wish he'd seen the whole thing from the start._

The car barely missed another as he forced it into park, dodging out the door. He didn't care to lock it. _Let teenagers steal it. _Tony forced himself to run as fast as he could, though he could only hope it was fast enough.

He slowed down instinctively at her door, taking a spare key she'd given him once. Now, he couldn't remember why she'd ever given it to him, but he thanked God for it. The door clicked open silently. His eyes widened at the scene in front of him, and hands reached for his gun.

A half naked Ziva, her arms roped and legs roped. Charlee, pinning her against a wall. He'd known there was something wrong with the FBI agent. But this…?

Without another thought, Tony threw himself forward and pushed the other man off of his partner. Charlee, temporarily disoriented, turned to face him, eyes hot with anger. But he was not given a chance to move. The NCIS agent drew his gun and pointed it, at point-blank range, towards the player. The almost rapist of his partner.

"Get out," he screamed, "get out! Before I fucking blow your head off!"

Charlee smiled at him, a peculiar smile that he'd almost taken as a warning, and grabbed the shirt of his. He kissed Ziva one more time before trying to pass by Tony.

_Later, he'd wished he'd taken the shot._

He didn't make it far without falling. Tony's eyes turned to slits at the kiss to his partner and his arm came up, connecting with Charlee's face and giving him a satisfying crunch. Charlee fell, staring for only a few seconds, at the angry NCIS agent and the gun, before he scrambled out, fast, barely grabbing his bag.

Tony rushed to shut the door and lock it before turning to his partner. She looked a million years younger, and only now did he realize just how weak she was compared to before. "Oh God, Ziva," he whispered tenderly.

A pocketknife came from his back pocket and the man cut the ropes as carefully as possible. The ropes now free, she collapsed against him.

"Tony," she whispered hoarsely. He slid the pocket knife into his pocket, the gun into its holder, and pulled her tight against him. No matter what, they were still partners.

This was all it took for him to forgive her. His arms surrounded her and he carried her to her bedroom. Tony sat on the bed, simply holding her in his arms.

Mossad. Somalia. Now this. Hadn't she been through enough?

"Tony," she whispered again. He pulled her tighter and kissed her head softly.

_Later, when she'd fallen asleep in his arms, he'd wished that he could have saved her from this._


	9. Okay

**A/N: This was significantly easier to write. This isn't the end, however. No matter how much you hate or like this chapter, I actually have a much… sweeter (?) ending. Enjoy. I don't own anything.**

It hurt, but not physically. It hurt when she woke up in her bed alone, realizing that Tony had left her alone. No note, no clue that he'd even been there except for the blood that stained the carpet in front of her door – obviously from when Charlee had been punched. Charlee. She hated that name, she hated that bastard now.

It hurt, but not physically. It hurt when she realized that there's a purple bruise in the shape of a hand print on each of her arms. A sign of weakness, much like apologies.

She realized that she's going to be late for work but she allows herself to take a long, hot shower anyway. The water runs down her face, her arms, and she enjoyed it as much as possible. Her mind flashed back to the night before constantly. The days before.

No matter what, Tony had shown that he'd always be there for her. He'd saved her and he'd held her and… he'd left her alone.

There was a logical answer for this. He had returned to his apartment to gather his clothing and he would meet her at work. _Yes, that must be it,_ she thought with a sad smile, _two of us late for work will only make Gibbs suspicious._

Ziva slipped on a basic white shirt after exiting the shower, only looking at it long enough to make sure it was long sleeved. T-shirts would only reveal the purple marks, and she wanted to avoid questions at all costs. If she was lucky, her team would pass Charlee off as just a fling.

Tony, however, would always know.

Somehow, this comforted her.

The clock read 6:55 by the time she was ready to leave. Today was a day to drive slow. No speeding tickets, no worries. Tony'd cover for her somehow, would he not? After all, one often needed time to recover from something like this.

_Does that make me weak?_

In the back of her mind, a voice whispered, "No, you'll never be weak," and she could have sworn it was Tony, though he was not there and mental connection like _that_ was obviously not present between them.

She smiled, remembering all of the times she'd read his mind or they'd argued because they couldn't read each other's minds.

The smile faded as she remembered their recent days. Guilt clawed at her heart as she realized that she'd been so unwilling to listen to him, and yet so willing to make him jealous, when all he'd wanted was the best for her.

He'd proven that last night. If anything, when she'd needed a knight in shining armor, he was there, yes?

_I hope I got that idiom wrong. Tony would correct it if it was wrong…_

_But he's not here._

Gibbs had taken Charlee off the case just in time. She wouldn't put up with him today.

Thank God for that.

*** 

By the time Ziva reached work, it was 6:20. Gibbs looked rather angry, not willing to accept Tony's cover for her, "Boss, I sent her to take a shower 'cause she was in the gym. It smelled so bad!"

His goofy grin had nearly won over Gibbs, but he had watched it falter. There was something that he wasn't being told. Only Tony – and Ziva, he guessed, though she was not there – seemed to know what that was.

"Ah, and there she is," Tony grinned and flicked a hand toward the elevator as it gave a sharp _ding!_ "Probette, did you take a shower? If you hit the gym again, bring deodorant!"

Ziva stopped, staring at him for a second. A cover. Of course. She rolled her eyes at him and pretended to be angry with his remark. "It was a mistake, Tony. I would not touch your deodorant."

Her words reminded him of the time he'd used hers. That seemed so long ago now, when they were just Tony and Ziva, partners. Now, he couldn't be sure what they were.

"Gear up!" Gibbs called as he decided to ask questions later.

As long as they weren't breaking rule 12, it couldn't be anything too major, could it?

"Where to, Boss?" called Tony, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder haphazardly.

"Local police found a female lieutenant dead, they think she's been raped," he announced over his shoulder as he walked away.

Had he looked behind him, Gibbs would have seen the flash of pain in Ziva's brown eyes.

Had he looked behind him, Gibbs would have seen the flash of concern for Ziva in Tony's green eyes.

***

It would be a day before they spoke again. Their co-workers had found this unusual, but they'd simply decided that it was the whole Charlee thing again. However, the silence seemed different this time. Not angry, but somehow awkward.

Tony smiled at his boss, a smile that could have been mistaken for genuine but was not, around noon. "Boss, we don't have much to do," he started, "I'm gonna hit the head."

McGee and Gibbs nodded simultaneously, and neither looked up from their work. Tony forced himself to take a relatively fast pace, fear for Ziva already tearing at his heart, even though he was barely down the hall from the squad room.

_She's in good hands._

The man found himself glad that the men's room was empty, though it did not remain so for long. Just as he turned toward the sinks, the door opened behind him. Ziva stood there.

"We have not spoken in a day," she blurted out before he could get in a word, her voice cracking in the middle. "Tony…"

"I wanted the awkwardness to clear," he admitted, turning away from the sinks to face her. "I wanted a chance for you to heal, because you like to do things alone."

"Not everything," she whispered, and he could just barely hear those words.

_Later, he'd wish he'd taken her in his arms again and pulled her tight._

"I'm sorry," was all he could manage.

"Tony," Ziva started, biting her lip. "Abby has said a few things to me. I… I want to know. What do you truly think of me?"

"You'd need more truth serum to get that out of me," Tony joked, winking at her, but dropped the playful attitude at her look. She was sincere. "I… the truth, huh?"

"The truth, and nothing but," she nodded, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Don't hurt me, but…" he trailed off for a few moments, closing his eyes and thinking hard. "I don't want any other man near you. I don't want you in the field, even, sometimes, because I'm scared for you. And trust me, after last night, I think I have a reason to be scared for you."

She nodded, waiting for what would come next. She did not move, however, from her position at the door.

"I'm jealous. I'm protective and," he paused, drawing a deep breath. "Ziva David, I think I love you."

Her eyes widened. Whether she'd prepared herself for this or not, she hadn't expected him to be so… clear with his words. She'd expected him to beat around the tree.

"Okay," she whispered, shaking, "Okay."

And without another word, she exited the men's room.


	10. Two Days

**A/N: This is the last chapter, guys. Chapter 10. I hope you enjoyed Jealousy. I didn't expect it to get to the end really, or the attention it did. I was shaking writing some of the chapters though. :( I don't own anything, enjoy.**

"Okay."

It had been two days. Two damn hectic days since she'd spoken that word to him.

Two days since he'd confessed everything.

She'd said nothing more to him in those two days, leaving him alone to his thoughts. He didn't try to chase her, he didn't try to corner her and force more out of her than "Okay."

Ziva David would talk on her own time. He knew her well enough to be sure that speaking would simply be pushing it and hurt them both in the end.

The sun had long set over DC as Tony DiNozzo sat on his couch. The same one he'd sat on when he'd gotten that phone call, the one that made him want to cry for her and hug her.

That one phone call that had given him a chance to save her… again.

Admitting to her that he loved her was hard. He hadn't admitted it to himself even, before then, anyway.

He'd known that he'd loved her. He'd known that he'd do anything for her.

But he'd never allowed himself to think that he could love after the disaster that was Jeanne.

All the women in his life seemed to be taken away from him some way. Kate, shot by Ari. Paula, killed by a bomb to save them all. Jeanne, all part of an undercover op that could never end right.

He'd keep Ziva beside him as long as he could.

Two days nearly killed him. He'd barely gotten enough sleep to pay attention to Gibbs.

He'd seen her eyes go to him occasionally, unsurely, and he'd just meet her eyes, and she'd just look away from him.

Now, however, Tony sat, quiet, his mind racing again. This was so familiar.

His own words, and her word, had echoed in his mind since he'd spoken.

_Ziva David, I think I love you._

"_Okay."_

He was drawn from his thoughts as the doorbell rang.

It was 10 o'clock at night. Why would anyone be visiting him? Wanting nothing more than to sink back onto the couch and allow himself to think, he hurried over to the door.

He didn't look to see who it was.

Frankly, he didn't care much.

The door opened with a twist of the knob, revealing Ziva.

She looked upset.

He bit his lip, and began to try and speak, but her stare shushed him.

Without a second thought, her hand lifted to his cheek and, softly and slowly, she kissed him.

"_Okay."_


End file.
